The peak of happiness

I’ve been there. Maybe you have too.

After climbing that hill for fifteen minutes, crossing bushes and trees, and roads and people and dogs, she and I reached there. It was breathtaking. The open sky where the noon was shying away in the arms of the evening. Breezes are always soothing on face, but you could recognize that those breezes there were romantic. They didn’t touch you slowly at first, then all at once. No sir. Those are average breezes. These would touch you softly, then kiss you, then momentarily blow on your face tightly with the intensity of an insecure lover’s hug. But would immediately realize they are hurting you and would stop altogether. Following a true lover’s footsteps, they would lower everything else for that moment, and would restart the slow pecks.

After putting in so much effort, anybody would generally sit on that side of the hill from where you could see the entire city and its calmness. But I couldn’t take my eyes away from the other side of the hill. We could feel that the land was still slanted, we being on the lower end. There was a curvy road in front of us, and that turn was so perfectly round. The land along the road was higher where we sat with our legs hanging in air, slightly above the base. Green trees and bushes all across both sides of the road gave a relaxing and divine feel to the already blessed aura. Some people were walking by, but too busy with their talks to notice us at one corner. And we both were sitting there, absorbing it all in.

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That moment I looked at her. She was talking animatedly as she always used to when she used to be next to me. As if that was her most comfortable place. I’m a very shy person. I can’t express myself freely when I know somebody is watching me who’s not supposed to see me. That person could be any random person. I care too much. But not she. She had focussed on just me. And was explaining about the place and how she discovered it with her friends and how she was was dying to show it to me. I was just looking at her thinking ‘How beautiful she is but she doesn’t know it. Did no one tell her? But I tell her daily. Did she never believe me? Why is she so down to earth? What did I do to deserve her? What else do I want in my life if I have her — Her — who doesn’t care who is watching and who is not when I’m next to her — who tells me all the little details in such an exciting way that I get a brand new perspective of life— who stops me from doing something wrong, or saying something hurtful — who takes care of me before taking care of herself — and who makes me feel that there’s somebody who wouldn’t be able to live without me…’

She asked me a question in between her monologue “Isn’t it?” And I came out of my dreamy romantic world and looked in her eyes — so big and so beautiful — her face was demanding an answer like a toddler’s would — her small hands, smaller fingers, smallest fingernails — most of her features didn’t fit in the world’s dictionary of beautiful or sexy — but I had started to like only her features— my definition had changed — my preferences had changed… and she looked at me with those puppy eyes again, sensing I was admiring her from my eyes, she tilted her head slightly to the right, came closer and gazed into my eyes — Ah! I couldn’t handle that anymore! She knew all my weak points! The outline of her chubby face resembled with that of Lord Ganesha’s. I never told her this — but that is what I felt. It gave me a heavenly feeling. I hugged her and kept my eyes open to take it all in.

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That was the peak of happiness in my life. I cannot forget that place maybe ever. I generally forget the past without efforts, but that moment I never forget. I still cherish every small details of that moment. I have a picture as well and it’s my most favorite picture of her, of me, of us.

We’re not together anymore. I can’t go to that place any longer. Because I think it would do more harm than good. It would make those memories so fresh that I would cry all night there. I don’t regret that we met, we felt so much connection. But I miss those times. It’s not that I’m not able to get excited anymore or be happy in small things. But that level of happiness was something else. I can’t find it anywhere else. Maybe I don’t want to? If you’ve ever loved somebody true, have felt that connection with that person, and have been to a place where you two were just sitting and savoring the moment, you’ll connect with me on this one.